The 737

What a terrible way to warm up your leg
on my leg while you snored
When there were snacks and sneezes
and people you needed, still
chose a quiet row to do your own
living, down on the ground
where the din was so loud
you became a load-bearing wall

during that time I couldn’t decide
if we’d lost half our minds
and the entirety of our way home.

It doesn’t matter, you don’t know me
but I do
and I know you too
you’re that one from a different time and place
from a silent void of space;
I can’t breathe in your atmosphere.

I pull my life past you, eyes at half-mast
where I finally see what’s in store—
a page gets turned, there’s something to learn
and a well-lit exit door.